


In Which You Do Not Meet Goopson

by Have



Series: Slice of Life [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: (or FellSwap), ...but in SwapFell, Alternate Universe - Swapfell (Undertale), Asgore doesn't keep booze laying around., Gen, No defined gender or sexual identity., Reader has low DT levels., Reader is River Person, Reader is not a Determined person., River Person does not Swap with Gaster, Swapfell, Tra la la. You are the riverman. Or are you the riverwoman...? It doesn't really matter., fellswap, so not really in the "role" of River Person.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-08-19 23:53:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16544750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Have/pseuds/Have
Summary: This day was always quieter than the others, though. Every year, only two or three small bands of monsters would bother with letting you know you're unwelcome while all the others stayed as far out of sight as possible.But they kept you in theirs.As though they thoughtyouwere the dangerous one.





	In Which You Do Not Meet Goopson

**Author's Note:**

> [This fic was edited on March 13, 2019.
> 
> Many thanks to my editor, Lady_Arkytior_of_Dunans, who is a fantastic author and a master at comprehensive world-building in fics.
> 
> (Her AO3 is here: archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Arkytior_of_Dunans/pseuds/Lady_Arkytior_of_Dunans  
> and her tumblr here: ladyarkytiorofdunans.tumblr.com/)]

By the time you opened your eyes that morning, you already knew you were late.

 

It was impossible to miss.

 

Everything was just so painfully _silent_.

 

There were no footsteps or breaths in the house other than your own. No water running. No teakettle whistling. Even the large, brilliantly-colored blooms that were displayed in every room seemed unnaturally still.

 

The house was only ever so quiet this early in the morning once a year. And you didn't want him to be alone, this time.

 

Clearly this is your phone's fault. An interdimensional box but _no_ alarm clock?

 

You didn't bother with changing out of your pajamas. The Ruins never seemed anything but temperate...and somewhat desolate... Shoes were a must, though. The occasional loox might snark about your running around in flannel (if they can't think of anything else to pick at), but those rocks, vines, and twigs are absolutely unforgiving on bare feet.

 

In your rush to slip on the shoes you left laced the other day (laziness saves the day!) as you left your bedroom, you managed to bump into the rather tall vase beside your door, which in turn thunked against the small table beside it and toppled to the floor before you could catch it.

 

"*Fffffffffffff."

 

You stifled the almost-swear-word on reflex before turning the vase back upright, straightening out the uncreatively-named Golden Flowers as you looked down the hall, half-expecting a worried, white-furred giant with tear-rimmed eyes to appear.

 

The door on the far side of the hall remained closed.

 

You already knew it would.

 

And the door between here and there was as untouched as ever, with a sign reading "Room under renovations". Same as it's been all the years you've lived here. The hinges could be rusted shut for all you know.

 

You asked him what was behind that door, once.

 

He didn't stop crying for four hours. From how raw his voice sounded for a week afterward, he probably continued after you went to bed.

 

You've since decided that you're not curious enough to open it yourself.

 

Turning away from the rearranged flowers to finally leave the house, you make a point of not looking at the stairs that you are not curious enough to go down.

 

Somehow you're very certain it wouldn't end well if you did.

 

**The taste of blood in your mouth.**

**_Why...why won't your legs move?_ **

****

**_What's that clicking sound?_ **

**An ice-cold grip around your neck.**

**Gleaming fangs and crimson hair.**

**_Everything's so bright..._ **

****

**_...it's too bright..._ **

**The sensation of something burning through your skin**

**your flesh**

**your bones**

**your heart.**

**Pulling...**

**...pulling...**

 

...You'll never be curious enough to go down those stairs.

~~Not again.~~

 

 

_Take a deep breath._

_Stomp your foot._

_Hear that crunching?_

_Good._

 

You blinked down at the large flake of dried, red leaf now stuck between the lace and tongue of your shoe. You're home. You're safe.

 

You have to go.

 

After over a decade in the Underground (you're pretty sure of that, at least...there's no view of the sun or moon to measure for sure down here, but the Monster Calendar didn't seem all that different from what you remember of the Surface) it didn't take long to cross through the Ruins, even with spiky traps being reactivated every day and equally-spiky monsters ambushing you with scowls and threats at every turn.

 

Most of them seemed to take your ignoring them as a "win". Probably because Asgore stepped in the last time you were pulled into an actual confrontation.

 

Sometimes you felt sorry for the migosp. He was the first to toss aside his pride and apologize, though it made no difference in the end.

 

This day was always quieter than the others, though. Even that ghost that liked to follow you around and insist you stop following him before tsundere-ing off to wherever else he haunted didn't bother to show up. Just like every year, only two or three small bands of monsters would bother with letting you know you're unwelcome while all the others stayed as far out of sight as possible.

 

But they kept you in theirs.

 

As though they thought _you_ were the dangerous one.

 

You tried not to think too hard on those eyes as you passed through the final door, knowing that you'd only feel heavier ones on the other side.

 

For some reason, you felt less like an assumed threat and more like an insect in there.

 

At the end of the Ruins, as far from Asgore's home as you could go, you finally found the massive monster on his knees. His back was turned to you and he was bent forward, with this face mere inches from the carpet of Golden Flowers that had overtaken this room long before you ever fell down here.

 

His baritone was too low, too quiet for you to hear what he was whispering to the flowers, but from the trembling of his shoulders, you knew he was weeping.

 

Back when you first fell, when he first took you in, you thought he needed the solitude. That he needed to properly grieve for whomever it was that you never met, and you had no place in this room on that day. After a couple years of him spending the entire day in this room, crying himself to exhaustion and barely eating the next day, you made a point of going with him.

 

Or, at least, you tried to.

 

Mostly you ended up waking too late and finding him already there.

 

Maybe it was best that he had some time alone on this day.

 

But not all of it.

 

You sat beside him, just outside the only streams of true sunlight to reach down here and ignored the heavy gaze of someone you've never seen. When Asgore's murmurs died down you placed a hand on his arm, letting him know that you were there, that it was time to go home and have some tea. Regain his strength.

 

He'd be back to tend the flowers and check for other fallen humans tomorrow.

 

As always.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a tumblr for fandom theories and ideas: noplotnostory.tumblr.com  
> [Edit: I also have a pillowfort, now! (pillowfort.io/noplotnostory)]
> 
> (SwapFell!Sans doesn't let his Papyrus wander around the woods in a fit of social anxiety to go practice talking to people with a random door. At least, not often enough for SwapFell!Asgore to be ok with taking someone he's never seen's word that his adopted human will be safe if they leave.)


End file.
